


We've Been Here For So Long

by stucky_imstuck



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angsty grandpas, Brainwashing, Cryogenics, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nothing too graphic I think?, They've never mixed well with ice and you know it, This is kind of a retelling? Kinda?, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stucky_imstuck/pseuds/stucky_imstuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky have been through time, ice, death. Hell and back.</p><p>That doesn't mean their love for each other fades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, who knew this was gonna happen. I certainly didn't. Does inspiration ever just hit you and you can do nothing about it? That's how this fic came to life. All possible mistakes are my own. If you find one, please point me out, but be gentle :D I hope you like it.

“We looked for you after,” Steve heard Bucky say from behind him. “My folks wanted to give you a ride from the cemetery.”  
Steve stepped up the stairs, Bucky following close, and closed his eyes. “I know, I’m sorry. I just... Kinda wanted to be alone.”

His voice sounded small, and for all he tried he wasn’t able to lighten his tone. Steve was feeling small. And even though he neared his and his ma’s place with every step he took, a dark feeling consumed him. Shoulders sagging even more, he tried not to think of the fact that Sarah Rogers had been there so recently, and now... She was gone.

Bucky pulled him out of his thoughts by asking softly, “How was it?”

“S’okay. She’s next to dad.” Steve tried to keep his expression neutral, even though Bucky couldn’t see his face. And even though, as he spoke, his voice thickened and wavered. He lifted a hand and pushed his bangs back.

“I was gonna ask...” Steve didn’t let Bucky finish as he fished for the key inside his pocket. 

“I know what you’re gonna say, Buck, it’s just...” he reached the door and rummaged better through his pockets, still not finding the key. He didn’t know what it was. Steve just didn’t want Bucky to think of him as a burden now that his mother died.

“We can put the couch’s cushions on the floor, like when we were kids. It’ll be fun! All you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash.”  
The joke made the feeling inside Steve’s chest tighten even more. That feeling. And it made him feel guilty, given the circumstances, but he wanted to accept the offer; hell, he wanted to accept it on the spot. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Out of what, he couldn’t put a finger on.

Noticing Steve’s growing worried expression at not finding his key, Bucky stepped back and kicked the dark brick placed nearby, leaning down to grab the spare key hidden under it. Walking to Steve and extending his arm, he offered him it as he insisted, “C’mon.” After all, Steve hadn’t given him an answer yet.

Steve took it, brows knitted, and looked down. He fidgeted with the key as he considered the option. After a moment, his eyes met Bucky’s, blue gazing at grey. 

“Thank you, Buck.” He pursed his lips slightly and his frown deepened somewhat. “But I can get by on my own.”

The words escaped his lips, but Steve wasn’t so sure about that. And it made him want to say yes even more.

Bucky pressed on. “The thing is,” he shook his head, looking for the right words, and sighed. “You don’t have to.” His eyes trailed up to fall upon Steve’s once more, a silent and expectant plea noticeable in the way he looked at him.

Still fearing a negative answer, and noticing the look on Steve’s face, Bucky brought a hand to Steve’s shoulder, holding on to his best friend. Steve kept his eyes on him, a small frown etched on his face. Bucky felt the need to reassure him.

“I’m with you to the end of the line, pal.”

Bucky pressed his lips together, glancing at Steve with honesty and something else. Something that he never quite seemed to be able to mask.

At that, Steve took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling, Bucky’s hand still gripping one of them, firmly but with a gentle undertone. His eyes softened as they looked right back at Bucky, a small, thankful smile slowly appearing on his lips. His chest felt warm, something he thought impossible due to the fact that he had just left his own mother’s funeral. But that was the thing; even in the darkest of times, Bucky could make him feel hopeful. And he was very grateful for that.

As he smiled at Bucky, Steve hoped his look told him what his words couldn’t say.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo again! Here's the second chapter. I'm still deciding how many chapters this will have, but I think I already have an idea. Again, all possible mistakes are my own. If you see one, please do tell me! Without further ado, I hope you like it!

“It’s not gonna be a safe landing,” Steve spoke into the radio, sound slightly quieted by static as it reached Peggy’s side, “but I can try to force it down.”

Peggy’s chin trembled as she fought back the tears threatening to come. She wouldn’t give up just yet. Trying to focus, she replied, “I-I’ll get Howard on the line, he’ll know what to do.”

“There’s not enough time, this thing’s moving to fast and attending to New York.” Steve looked at the mass of clouds surrounded by golden sunlight on the other side of the glass, his breathing erratic.

“I’ve gotta put her in the water.”

Although she knew that it was coming, Peggy felt as if the air had disappeared from her lungs. Fighting to regain her composure, she insisted, “Please, don’t do this. We have time, we can work it out!”

Glancing at the radar screen, Steve replaced his fear with something else. With courage. He was going down, but he had a good reason to do it.  
“Right now, I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die.” Steve kept his resolve as the plane neared the ice. Death had never been closer but he was going to face it.

He was looking forward to see Bucky again.

Peggy’s voice was strangely calmer as it interrupted his thoughts. “Steve... We both know why you’re doing this.”

Steve frowned. He knew what she was referring to. And it surprised him, in all honesty, although it shouldn’t. She was that sharp, really. “Peggy…”

“Tell me I’m wrong, Steve.”  
He closed his eyes and felt the dam he’d spent so many years building break down with one swift blow.  
Steve thought he hadn’t been obvious about it. Maybe he had. Or maybe Peggy just had been really good at reading him. Which he didn’t doubt. Either way, it was too late now, for whatever he might have said.

“Steve.”

“I- I can’t.”

Her voice softened even more and broke mid-sentence. “You and I both now that’s not what he’d want, Steve. He’d want you to carry on.”

The plane was now crashing at an alarming speed, the wind slipping through the cracks on the glass and whipping past Steve’s face.

He felt truly sorry and allowed himself a moment to think about how it could have been. What it could have been, but wasn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Peggy, anyway. Not when the one he’d loved all along was Bucky. She deserved better, and she’d live a happy life with a person who could give her their all. Steve knew it, and despite the situation, it brought him comfort.

On Peggy’s end, the communication was worsening by the moment, background noise drowning out Steve’s voice more and more.

“I can’t, Peggy. I’m so sorry. I-“

For a second, there was a fuzzy sound of heavy static, and then silence. Peggy didn’t bother stopping the tears from falling this time, a wrecked sob escaping her throat. She couldn’t stop or judge Steve, and she wouldn’t. But that didn’t make her feel less heartbroken.

 

\---

 

The plane hit the ice with a deafening crash, and as the water seeped in and Steve’s vision darkened, memories of contagious laughter and grey eyes replayed through his mind for the last time.

Or so he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope that wasn't too bad. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was harder to write, I didn't want to mess it up. But oh well. It's here. I hope you like it!

“I’m not gonna fight you.” Steve gasped, stumbling, forcefully ignoring the pain from his wounds as he focused on Bucky’s enraged face. 

He dropped his shield and faced him with a serious look, still trying to regain some of his balance. “You’re my friend.”

Because for Steve, that was the thing, that had always been the thing; he’d give up anything for Bucky. He’d stood tall for himself, but he would rather die if it meant he didn’t have to fight Bucky, to hurt Bucky.  
It ran deep, and Steve couldn’t ignore it. So he didn’t.

With a guttural scream, Bucky lunged at Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist and dragging him down as he made Steve’s back hit the glass floor of the helicarrier forcefully.

Bucky’s voice was nothing short of angry as he growled, “You’re my mission.”  
Raising his left arm, metal hand closed in a fist, Bucky swung at Steve. 

Steve could feel the impact of each punch maiming his face, so rough it broke skin, and soon enough his eye was swollen shut. He could only focus on Bucky’s wrecked voice yelling “You’re my mission!” in between each blow as he felt consciousness slipping away from him.

But still, Steve hung on.

Bucky raised his metal arm one last time.

After a moment of hesitation, he was about to throw a last punch when Steve croaked out, “Then finish it.”

“’Cause I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Bucky stood still as a statue for a second as he took in the words. After a moment, bits and pieces of images started popping on his mind, scattered like torn pages of a book. He saw a short, thin boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, and it took him a second before the similarities to the man beneath him hit him.

Steve.

His gaze kept fixed on Steve, his cut and bruised face devoid of any expression, and as he looked and looked his eyes widened in shock. In horror.

Steve…!

As recognition made itself more and more present, Bucky felt paralyzed. So many questions on his twisted, broken mind, absolute terror of himself, and Steve. 

There was a loud noise as an enormous part of the helicarrier sank on them, taking Steve down. Bucky barely had time to hang on, shock still haunting him, but he gripped the ledge tightly with his left hand as fast as he could manage, watching Steve fall to the river below, metal and glass flying around him like rain.

\---

Steve was dragged onto shore. He was almost completely unconscious, but not enough not to feel the pull of something – someone - gripping his suit near the shoulder and pulling him onto solid ground, followed by the distant crunch of boots in the mud.

\---

A name echoed in Bucky’s mind over and over again. 

Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

As he walked away, he refused to look back. He was confused enough about his own actions.  
Bucky was scared of how he’d acted towards the man, towards Steve. Scared of how he’d reacted, how he felt the urgent need to save him, even after all that happened.

He was scared because he didn’t know why he did it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I checked the grammar and all that stuff myself, so there can be mistakes here and there. Let me know if you find any. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! It's been sometime since I last updated, but life and lack of motivation got in the way. But I finally have a new chapter to post! I hope it's not too bad, even knowing that it's a bit short. I'm not very confident in it, but I hope you enjoy it.

Bucky’s eyes skimmed over the page, already used to the dim lighting of the tiny apartment. He reread all the words he’d written, brows knitting in a frown. Two years ago, when the memories kept coming at the most random pace, sometimes only bits and pieces, other times rushing in fully, he’d decided it was better to write everything down. Back then, all Bucky could think of was how he’d gotten some memories back when Hydra still had control over him. How he’d remembered those things after the encounter with Steve on that bridge, and how they’d taken them all away from him right after, wiping his mind of any reminder that he was a person. That he once had a life. That he’d once felt.

He had no money at the time. After all he’d done as the asset, as the Winter Soldier, it was probably ridiculous how shameful he felt as he had snuck in that store and stolen two or three notebooks.

Writing was a new discovery process on its own. His mind was still trying to string together a sequence, a story, but, the first time he’d done it, as the familiarity had returned to his hand and his old handwriting had begun to take shape, more memories had started showing up. 

As he’d looked at the slightly messy and not-quite-cursive scrawl, he’d seen flashes of scraps of paper, quick notes, messy reminders, short shopping lists, messages for Steve.

Right now, though, it was as if the words he wrote stared right back at him. He wondered if it had really happened, and the more he looked, the more what he wrote seemed like just something his broken mind made up.

Was he even able to just imagine something like this, though?

That question echoed and lingered in his head. Bucky closed his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples. He couldn’t have imagined it. He saw it, clear as day; the stubborn strands of hair that Steve had kept pushing back out of his face with his fingers, these soon replaced with Bucky’s own as he’d cradled Steve’s head on his hand gently and had leaned in, pressing his lips to his softly.

Bucky swore he could feel the ghost of that kiss on his mouth. He swore he could recall the sensation, the spark that had shot down his spine. But that was impossible. If it had truly happened, it had been a lifetime ago. And Steve would have moved on by now. Besides, he didn’t visualize how it had ended. Steve might’ve reacted the wrong way. Or not, if it was something usual between them. No. Bucky wasn’t going to feed that most likely false hope.

Bucky did want to believe it was real. He wanted to hold onto that supposed memory because it felt… Vivid. Sharp, in a way. But he couldn’t give in to that stupid, stupid temptation. He wasn’t sure why his mind was playing tricks on him, luring him into yet another black alley, but-

Black alley.

He grabbed the pen and flipped the page of the notebook, scribbling down everything he was revisiting in his head before the brand new memory slipped through his fingers like smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
